Gensokyo's Urban Legend
by Timeskipper1
Summary: Yukari Yakumo knew well what made Gensokyo what it was now. But maybe she didn't know it well enough. A simple project, gone way out of hand, turned everything familiar upside down. Now, only two unlikely partners are left to figure out what happened to their beloved land - and the memories of everyone. Urban Gensokyo, but not an urban AU.
1. In a foreign and unhospitable city

It was a relatively quiet night in Gensokyo city. Which means, it was a chaotic and noisy night. Six-hundred discos were pouring hundreds of decibels into the streets, for the amusement of the ten-thousand tourists that stopped by every day, and hung around every night in their bulimic and urgent search for always more entertainment.

Every minute, one thousand cocktails and assorted liquors were sacrificed along with almost as many olives on the altars of the bar counters, in honor of both, following the democratic principle of equal opportunities, regular and occasional customers.

In a corner, some person dressed as a policeman was putting to sleep in the express way an overexcited drunkard who was convinced that a sharply-dressed man had stolen his wallet.

Outside the entrance of the Ensui bar, one of the quieter in the area, were standing two... rather distinctive figures: two women, one with long blonde hair, dressed in a tuxedo that was clearly too small for her, and another one, with short green hair and a piercing look, who was wearing a peculiar plaid jacket with a matching long skirt. All in all, the two could easily be forgotten among the undistinguished mass of people filling the street. Yet, those two women had something... special about them, that made them stand out from the crowd. Or that would have made them stand out from the crowd, if they hadn't been careful enough to choose a secluded corner, far enough from prying eyes... or ears.

The two were, right that moment, still plunged in an awkward silence, both waiting for the other to start the conversation. Finally, the green-haired woman broke the silence.

"So, had any luck, Yukari? - she asked - Found your darling little shrine maiden yet?"

"Not yet, Yuuka. This godsdamned city is as big as Gensokyo was... but there's much more people. And we've been looking for only a few days. You can't expect me to work miracles, not here at least", replied a very annoyed Yukari. She found herself neck-deep in that mess only three days ago, and being stuck with the sole company of Yuuka had already started to drive her crazy. The feeling of impotence that not knowing what the hell exactly happened and being stripped of a significant part of her powers entailed wasn't helping one bit in the increasingly difficult task of bearing Yuuka's insinuations and innuendos. She was starting to understand how it felt to Reimu having to deal with her.

"Aww, too bad for that. Well, if it can comfort you, you've still got me… I know you're more into youngsters, but-" Yuuka's insinuations were cut short from a slap directed to her face. "You say that one more time and you're sleeping outside."

Yuuka replied with a heartily laugh: "THAT's the best threat you can come up with? You're getting soft, Yukari. Maybe you don't feel confident enough when we're not on your turf, huh? Or maybe it's the absence of your darling teenaged love do-" this time, Yukari had toppled the table on her. "Shut. It. You speak about Reimu like that again, and I'll burn down your garden when we're back to Gensokyo. Is that clear?"

"…If we'll ever be back to Gensokyo, Yukari. If's the key word. But ok, if it pisses you off so much I won't badmouth your One True Love. Now, could you get this table off me?"

Yukari wordlessly complied, glaring coldly at Yuuka. "Oh, my offer still stands, if you're interested. It's winter, we gotta keep each other warm, y'know?" Yukari was actually about to strangle the flower youkai, who wisely decided to cut it out.

"Back to serious business, anyway. You'd had more luck in finding someone else from Gensokyo?" asked Yukari.  
Yuuka hummed uneasily at the question, then spoke: "Well, yes and no. I _have_ found someone, but contacting her… well, that's a whole other story"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it's Yasaka Kanako. And that means…"

"Bad news, I get it – Yukari cut her off – How bad?"

"Wow – mused Yuuka – You don't trust Ms. Native Goddess much, huh? And you're right. Apparently, she's currently a higher-up in the armaments sector. Some sort of big joint-industry that produces weapons."

Yukari's face remained perfectly still. If she was surprised, she didn't show it. Then, she said in a deadpan tone: "Seems like her kind of thing. I wonder if she's always been like that…" she trailed off. "Like what?" asked Yuuka, already half-knowing where Yukari was going.

"Like a… a… mmh, like a man, actually. You know, forgetful, immature, opportunist, violent… that sort of behavior"

Yuuka yawned – "Ahunggg… interesting."

Yukari pretended she didn't hear her: "Anyway, that's all you know about her right now?"

"Hm-hm. Nothing more, for now. Name of her company's Yasaka Industries."

"Ok. Apart from her, you've found anyone else?" asked Yukari.

"No. Not for now. Buuuut, I'm confident I will find someone else soon~" was Yuuka's answer.

"Oh. And what makes you so confident?" replied Yukari, having recovered at least part of her usual coolness.

"Just… my feminine intuition~" answered Yuuka, her annoying grin growing even wider.

Yukari deadpanned: "That sounded like something out of some cheesy two-copper-pieces comedy".

"Eh, whatever. Anyway, if there's nothing else I think I'll be going now. No offense, but I don't like this place. It feels like… like we're two old, rich, decadent dumbasses, retired from life, their hearts and brains empty from the weariness of living, looking for excitement in some dingy bar in a pastless tourist city, hoping to feel young again. As if they'd ever _been_ young in the first place". And with that jarringly pretentious line, Yuuka got up and left.

* * *

Yukari remained slumped in her seat, thinking about Yuuka's last words. The metaphor was actually rather fitting. Not for the two of them, but rather for the average visitor of this city: someone born already old, who was trying to relive a youth they never had with the aid of loud music, dubious substances and strobe lights. Definitely not a city for the young. And it seemed the outside world was heading in that direction: a world full of old men and women who thought themselves to be young and acted like they actually were mature and responsible.

This time, she found herself agreeing with Yuuka: she didn't like this place. And she couldn't wait to be back to Gensokyo.

Yukari's reflections were interrupted by the waitress asking her to leave the table if she didn't want to order anything else. She quickly got up, paid the two jugs of beer her and Yuuka had ordered (and Yukari actually didn't drink). She felt like punching the waitress in the face, especially because one small beer costing 640 yen was ridiculous, but restrained herself, as it wasn't the right time to attract attention. Besides, the waitress herself had no fault for that. So Yukari allowed herself at least a little revenge against whoever owned the bar: she paid with one of her "special" 1000 yen bills, whose ink was mixed with habanero powder. That was an old trick she loved to pull during her trips to the outside world. It always worked, though this time she won't be around to witness it. Well, the situation wasn't ordinary, so she could let this fly for now.

After paying, she got up and left the bar. It was still not long past five, and since she had already spent an entire night out, she might as well keep looking for Reimu and sleep during the afternoon.

She knew that randomly searching the streets of the city would never turn some results, so she started thinking as she walked of a good place where to look for information on Reimu's whereabouts. What little she had managed to learn about this crazy city was rather disheartening: apparently the native denizens could be counted in not more than hundreds, pretty much the entire population of Gensokyo. The _real_ problem was the myriad of tourists that swarmed the city every day. There wasn't a real government or even a police, outside of an ill-defined private law-enforcing company, the Gensokyo Risk Control Security (she was near-certain that she had heard that name somewhere before, but where or when she did kept escaping her), and she highly doubted that it would be forthcoming with information. The fact that its associates were nicknamed "Orcops" by the locals certainly didn't make them look better in her eyes.

So, GRCS was preferably out of question. Then, there was the possibility of resorting to a private detective. Which was another foolish choice: the less people knew about Reimu, the better. And Yukari had enough experience with private detectives to know that they weren't to be trusted, and tended to leech money off rich clients. And all the money she had was what Maribel gave her, which was barely enough to pay a cab if there ever was need to.

She could actually make some researches on Reimu's whereabouts personally. If she was careful enough, she could avoid drawing attention to herself.

But where to actually look? Maybe Yuuka was right after all: finding someone else from Gensokyo could be useful. They might have met Reimu.

_Scratch that_, she told herself. First, Yuuka's already doing it, and while she did have a very relaxed attitude, even in a situation like that, Yukari was actually content with letting her look for the others by herself. And second, she was still hoping that this disgraceful situation would be over soon. **Very** soon. And the sooner she found Reimu, the better.

She kept walking through back-alleys, without a clear destination in her mind. She was still annoyed with the way Yuuka acted: keeping her cool in that situation was admirable, but making dirty jokes about Reimu was short from unforgivable. And she was starting to come off as very creepy.

Arrrgh, what was wrong with her? Back in Gensokyo she would either have answered back in the same fashion or challenged her to a duel and stomped her to the ground. Now, she was getting upset over it. _She. The Great Yukari Yakumo. Upset about a few sex jokes._

She needed to stop thinking like that. It didn't do her any good, and it certainly didn't help bringing Gensokyo back.

Ok, back to the task at hand. She recomposed herself and noticed that she had actually stopped walking and was slumping on a broken stone bench.

She quickly got up and got back to wandering aimlessly on the streets while thinking. From what she had learned, the outside world was pretty much the same she knew from the trips she went on a while back, before she was forced in this situation. Only, some little details in history seemed to have changed. And the most significant was the foundation of this "Gensokyo City", that dated back to 1884, exactly like the real Gensokyo, but had actually become a popular destination for tourists looking for cheap thrills only two or three years before.

So, knowing that, she wondered, where could Reimu be hiding? It's only been three days since the incident, and while in Gensokyo city it was easy to blend in, a teenage girl with no money, no properties, dressed like an old-style shrine maiden wouldn't certainly go undetected. Her researches hadn't yielded any results yet, which meant that Reimu was being smart and hiding. But she still had to eat, and sleep. So, maybe a charity…? Yukari remembered hearing about a "hostel" that took in the poor and homeless who needed a place where to sleep and something to eat. Sure, if Reimu _had_ actually gone there, she would've needed to fabricate a reason for being there, and, for what Yukari knew, that girl couldn't tell a lie to save her life. But it was still the best place to start from that Yukari could think of, if not the only one.

"It doesn't hurt to try…" Yukari said, and with that, she entered a shop to buy a map. She bargained on the price a bit, and after she finally managed to get her hands on the map, she got out of the shop to hit the streets again. Yet, in the back of her head, something was screaming at her that there was some very important detail she had overlooked.

* * *

She was walking, holding the open map in her hands (how she missed the ability to use her gaps. They were showy, and very useful in that kind of situations), when the realization hit her. Didn't Yuuka say that Yasaka Kanako was currently working as industrial manager for an armament industry? If she managed to arrange an appointment with Yasaka, Yukari would put herself in a much better position to start her search, instead of searching the streets on her own.

And getting an appointment shouldn't have been hard: all she needed to do was look up Yasaka Industries' PR office's telephone number, call and tell Kanako that Yukari Yakumo was looking for her. Even if she didn't exactly like the brash and arrogant goddess, Yukari knew damn well that this wasn't the kind of situation where she could afford to be picky about help.

Off to Maribel's house, then. Well, if she was able to find it, since Yashima Street was nowhere to be found... the absence of buses or other means of public transport really didn't help.

Still, she felt uplifted, if only a little. Maybe this nightmare would be over soon. She sure hoped so. Yet, for some reason, there was something in the back of her brain which kept telling her she was forgetting something. Oh well, she'll have time to think about that once she got to Maribel's.

* * *

Meanwhile, Yuuka had left the bar and was happily strolling through a particularly large alley. She immediately noted the absence of any kind of vegetation with disappointment. _Another point against humans. Hm, if I wasn't already busy trying to find where everybody's gone, I would really need to teach them to respect nature. Not that they'll ever learn. They only learn what makes them feel comfortable._

An old glove, abandoned on the edge of the road, dared her to pick it up. _Sorry, little one. You're not the one I'm looking for._

Again, her gaze trailed off through the whole alley, but again, to no avail, as the little ones where nowhere in sight.

_I guess it really can't be helped, after all. If they are not here, no matter what the signs might tell me, they're… not here. Yet…_

A grin began forming on her face._ They can't be drawn here, if they are really still aware of their true nature… but if they _are_ here, this means…_

She couldn't wait to see the smiles on their faces when she would come and welcome them back in her heaven. Too bad that they would be a wee bit disappointed at the news she would bring. Still, for how… tasty their teary-eyed, scared faces asking her for protection could be, it wouldn't do to leave them alone in such a tragic situation. By now, she could still trust Yukari. _The purple one is strange, alien, but she seems to understand the common sense that runs this world. And she's never actually been a threat to my darling little buds. She's in this too…_

Suddenly, her eye was swayed by something she spotted on the far side of the alley. Nothing important, apparently. A leaf, swept away by the wind. An old, browned cherry leaf.

She fixated her gaze on it. "There you are, little darling~", she cheerily said.

The leaf was a sign. A clue. Of course. She was telling her to find her younger sisters, who were still hanging on to the tree who birthed them. And there, her adorable little buds would be.

The impression was faint, the leaf was a sickly, weak and cowardly one, and its message unclear. But she was giving her a lead. _Can't blame you. Even the mighty oak or the sycamore would grow up weak and sick in this poisonous air._

She tried smelling the wind, but the scents and odors of nature were drowned by the stench of the cars' oil and the alcoholic breath of the drunk hanging around. She felt stupid, like a deaf turtle trying to see in the dark with her ears, like a bat.

And she was neither, ironically. On second thought, her situation reminded her oh-so-very-much of that of an unfortunate daisy who just found out that she had a tamarisk as next-door neighbor. Yes, the metaphor was fitting. However, she wasn't as frail as a daisy, and if things took the wrong direction, her arrogant neighbors would find out that she too had her poison to spew.

...

_Author's Notes:  
Well well, I'm glad I finally managed to publish this fic! I actually had the first chapter ready for quite some time, yet I never got around to publishing it, partly because I couldn't find (and still haven't found) a beta-reader, partly because I was always unsure about how this chapter was._

_Kind of to be expected, as it is something I wrote only because a strange idea suddenly popped up in my mind and it has been begging to be released for quite some time. Still, I'm everything but an experienced writer, and English isn't even my first language, so I'm sure there will be a lot of stylistic errors here and there. Nevertheless, I ask to anyone who should feel like losing some of her/his time reading this fic to not hold back and point out any mistakes, wrong wordings and bad structures. I shall be eternally grateful (which translates to: for a few days at least) to you!_


	2. Stressed Out

"Not. Today."

These irritated words had just come out of the mouth of a very irritated Kanako Yasaka, who was currently sitting on her designer chair. The guy who had sold it to her had said that it had an "ergonomic design" specifically designed to keep the back in the right posture and spare the customer the backache that sitting for prolonged periods of time caused. Then the only logical explanation was that she was probably imagining that sharp pain near her tailbone, which wasn't certainly helping her relieving her already black mood. Considering the stressful day she had until now, she could be excused if she felt like flinging that damn idiot currently sitting across the cherry-wood desk oh-so-kindly given to her by that moronic douchebag from Italy as "gallant gift" out of the window. Right? Not that she really _would_ do it, but the thought helped releasing some stress.

"But Miss Yasaka-"

"That's _Madam_ Yasaka for you." Kanako interrupted him.

The man seated in front of the desk stiffened and answered "Yes, madam", while in his mind asking himself what had he done wrong to end up in that situation.

It had all started with a computer error which had some weird effects, namely that of mixing up the orders archive. Which wouldn't have been a problem, as the head of the sales department, Hikaru Kobayashi, would have corrected immediately. It would have, if Kobayashi didn't have his hands full with another of the insistence of one particularly impatient and wealthy customer who didn't have the time to wait for the usual procedures to have his stock of weapons delivered, and being a big enough buyer had managed to shorten the paperwork via a simple call to the right number. And that, in itself, wouldn't have been a problem, since the error was a simple misplacing of a minor order. Yet, when the daily check-up was performed, no error was found. Yet, somehow, that minuscule slight had _somehow_ managed to screw up the majority of the delivery orders.

After that fiasco, the sales department collectively agreed that someone had to break the bad news to the management, more specifically the head representative Kanako Yasaka. Who had an infamously short temper, especially after a day's work. And she just happened to be back from a very tiring negotiation with General Yoel Sharon, chief commander of the Palestinian Federation's army. She made no secret that she absolutely loathed the old man (even though it was hard to find someone Kanako _didn't_ despise in some way or form, nobody elicited her rage more quickly or intensely than the Israeli general), and she had to deal with him for almost four hours nonstop. The foul climate of Jerusalem wouldn't have helped in the slightest in making her more receptive to bad news. All in all, everyone agreed that telling Yasaka of the mess-up with the orders would have had disastrous consequences for the unlucky person's career. And then, maybe out of a misguided sense of responsibility, Kobayashi volunteered to break the bad news.

And right now, he was wishing that he didn't.

"Anyway, let me see if I got this right", continued Kanako "They've sold half the year's production of Kalashnikovs and machine guns to the Afghan guys, what the hell were they called…"

"New Talibans, Madam Yasaka", said the man. "Thanks. So, now, apparently, the other guys are complaining that we're playing favorites with the New Talibans, and they ask to have the batch of ground-air defense lasers they ordered for October _now_. With a 15% discount." Kanako closed with an extremely tight smile.  
"Yes… madam Yasaka" the man was starting to visibly shrink in size, and the expression of his face clearly suggested that he'd gladly sell a kidney to be anywhere but where he was in that precise moment.

"Meanwhile, the other sonovabitches in the republic of Punjab want us to stop supplying the first ones or they'll sever our facilitated trade agreement for the new Onbashira ballistic missiles." Kanako let out a sigh that didn't mean anything good to the poor bastard, who was starting to shake in his chair.

"Yes, madam Yasaka" he answered, trying to keep a semblance of dignity.

Kanako started her next sentence wearing an understanding and maternal smile: "And to top it all off, they misplaced the order for the other Kalashnikovs and sent them to ANTARTICA? – the aforementioned understanding and maternal smile came tumbling down faster than a building hit by one of the above mentioned ballistic missiles – SO TELL ME, WHO IS GOING TO PAY FOR THOSE GUNS NOW, THE GODSDAMNED PENGUINS?"

"Y-yes…" the unfortunate man was now squirming in his seat, on the verge of tears.

Kanako put back up her pleasant smile, before saying in a sugary tone: "And now you're telling me that I should get up, take the first airplane for Kabul and go explain everything to those kind gentlemen?". The man usually knew better than to let his guard down like this, but the tension had probably done a work on his awareness and ability to think ahead, since he loosened up a little and said, with a goofy smile on his face: "Well, yes, more or less-", before being interrupted by Kanako shouting "SO NOW _I_ HAVE TO GO MEET THOSE APES IN THAT GODSFORSAKEN SCORCHED DESERT TO CLEAN UP THE MESS _THEY_ MADE? IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE FUCKING TELLING ME? YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL THAT I DON'T FIRE YOU OUTRIGHT! WHICH I WILL DO NEXT TIME YOU'LL ASK ME TO GIVE UP ON MY GODSDAMNED FREE TIME TO DO YOUR JOB, ARE WE CLEAR, MR. KOBAYASHI?"

Kobayashi was scared to death, because even if he didn't know if the rumors about his employer's strong mood swings were true (one of them had it that she actually beat to near-death the employees she rarely summoned in her private office, often for no reason at all, and that the red carpet on the floor wasn't actually red but rather covered in the dried blood of her unfortunate visitors). Granted, most of those rumors came from that idiot Reed, who liked to spread absurd rumors about his coworkers, but, still, Kanako's very presence managed to be terrifying enough to keep everyone in line even without special surveillance or anything of the sort, from the humblest employee to the other members of the Yasaka Industries' administration council, so he didn't want to find out if the rumors were actually true. He was rather relieved that, until then, he hadn't even felt a single punch land on his face. Maybe he could still hope to come out of that room alive and unharmed.

"You're free to go, Kobayashi".

What? Did he hear it wrong? Was he really free to go? "I said, go. I'll have Kurugawa deal with all this shit. Consider yourself lucky. Oh, and, by the way, while you're leaving, tell Olsen to tell the heavy-asses at the Pentagon that if they want they're free to bomb the New Taliban hideout, they've long since become useless anyway".

"Now, please, fuck off before I change my mind and send your CV to the HRM with a nice label that says _destination: the nearest dump_."

The man sitting in front of Kanako was smart enough to get off the chair, put up the fakest of smiles, mutter a polite goodbye and run like his life, or at least his career, depended on it. As it probably did: even if today he got off easy, it still wasn't a good idea to push his luck. When she was sure that her office was empty, Kanako opened her laptop, checked her email account and sent a few messages, before turning it off.

While the little act with Kobayashi had actually let her relieve some of her stress, it still wasn't enough to put her in a calm enough state of mind for the upcoming appointment. She needed something more relaxing than simply yelling at someone.

She sighed, got up from her chair and started looking for something in the office.  
It didn't take too long to find what she was looking for: an old gramophone and a photo. She put both on the damn cherry-wood desk and put an old LP on the gramophone's plate. Immediately, Mozart's Ninth Symphony started playing.

She closed her eyes and stretched on the chair, trying to relax. That day had been absolutely nightmarish, running from one appointment to another, starting at 4 a.m. and continuing with a 4-hour conference with the Israeli bastard. Not that her days weren't usually much better, as her job consisted pretty much in putting up with the tantrums of a bunch of senile old men who kept making big speeches about the importance of the cause they were fighting for, usually the freedom of some far-off country no-one gave a damn about or the annihilation of "terrorist groups" who were a menace for the security of the aforementioned far-off shithole, all in the hope of getting a discount. If there was something that comforted her, it was the fact that at least half of those idiots would soon be dispatched, either because they were broke and the company knew that they weren't going to pay their debts, or because they were losing their war and keeping them in their places was definitely more trouble than it was worth.

_Serves the bastards right_, she thought.

The only relief was that thanks to her position, she could at least afford to take her stress out on some of the employees. She chose her victims carefully: as a rule of thumb, she targeted those who were high enough on the enterprise's power ladder that they could actually hold some responsibilities (and besides, the lowlier employees were unsatisfying in that regard: it was definitely funnier to see some manager cower in fear rather than some common worker), and weren't popular enough with their subordinates that anyone would actually stand up to her for their sake. It always worked. Plus, when she needed to show everyone that hers weren't only idle threats, she could always abuse her authority a little to dump some unpaid extra work on someone's back, or find some excuse to deduce part of the wages of someone who pissed her off.

Yet, for all the compressed rage that a week of work could build up in her, there were times, usually when she wasn't drowning in her various commitments and had the time to simply sit down and think, when she felt a certain uneasiness about her work. It wasn't just irritation at being the company's face, and subsequently having to deal with the worst human specimens that could be found around, or having to shuttle back and forth around the world on a daily basis (she loved to travel, after all). No, it was something more… personal and deeper than superficial annoyance.

It was like something, in the back of her mind, was telling her that that wasn't her place, that she was betraying her nature, and that she should quit the job immediately.  
She wasn't sure what this meant, and this above all scared her. It scared her because she couldn't understand it, because it wasn't something rational, something that she could keep away with justifications or rhetoric. After all, for how much she hated actually _doing _her job, the pay was really good, and she enjoyed more privileges than most people. Being free to choose her working hours meant that she could even snatch a few weeks of total relax for herself.

Herself and Sanae. Right, Sanae. Her adopted daughter, or rather, the little girl who came knocking at her door, ten years before, with a letter claiming that she was the daughter of an old childhood friend of Kanako's, who had recently died and had no one else to turn to for a house and food. Of course, Kanako spent some time coursing through official documents to make sure it was true, and after having ascertained that what the letter was claiming was, in fact, the truth, she spent some time trying to make sure that she would at least receive the aids for adoptive single parents. It didn't take her too long, actually. All she had to do was go see the judge and act threatening enough. After having settled everything, she took Sanae in as her adoptive daughter.

And that was probably the most she had done for Sanae as a parent: in ten years she pretty much watched her raise herself, while limiting her interactions with the child to asking her if she had done the shopping and what was there for dinner. Oh, well, there were still those days when, after a particularly stressful day at work, she would yell at the girl before shutting herself in her room to listen to her discs. She even let Sanae choose which high school she would attend, and surprisingly she chose to go to Gensokyo's only high school, instead of choosing a more prestigious one, like in Osaka or Kobe.

When she was asked the reason of her decision, Sanae didn't know what to answer, so Kanako didn't press the issue.

That was pretty much their whole relationship: the only moments they had to act like they actually were mother and daughter were their holidays, which is one of the reasons why Kanako tried to avoid taking her days off at the same times when Sanae had her holidays. Sure, she wasn't the perfect model of a parent, but it's not like she had asked Santa Claus for a daughter or anything. Besides, she still gave Sanae a comfortable house and pretty much anything she could want, so nobody could say that she wasn't keeping good on her duty to take care of her.

When she caught herself thinking about Sanae, she cut off her train of thought. That wasn't the time to start thinking about her, now she needed to be focused and calm. And damn, Mozart wasn't doing his job. She needed something more relaxing. But there wasn't much choice, so in the end she resorted to her only LP of John Coltrane. She didn't particularly like jazz, but neither did she hate it, and Coltrane still had a soothing effect on her nerves.

She needed to be calm and sure right now, as she had another important appointment. One that didn't have anything to do with her job, but was very, _very_ important to her personally. She took a good, long look to the photo, then she laid down on her chair and threw her head backwards, and lost herself in the music.

* * *

After having spent the whole night following the faint traces left in the air, Yuuka had to resign herself to the fact that, in that city, the signs left by the plants and the small insects were too clouded from the stench of smoke and fried food to be reliable, leaving her with no other option than to trust Yukari and her plan.

She was walking among a rather crowded street, which, to her disappointment, had no flower beds or trees. She really needed to find some place to rest and clear her mind. It almost felt like the foul odors of the city had entered her head and polluted her brain.

Having nothing else to do, she started wandering the town aimlessly in the hope of finding a garden, or any large enough extension of grass, where to sleep.

She kept walking forward, and took a few random turns. The streets weren't particularly crowded, yet she had problems orientating herself, probably because of the lack of the signs she was used to: the smell of nature, the pattern of the underbrush, and similar small clues. She had just taken a turn to the left, when she started feeling something that bothered her. Like a voice, in the back of her mind, telling her that she was missing something. A small detail, a faint, but decidedly familiar scent, that kept reminding her of someone. Could it be…?

She immediately turned around, and began searching the crowd in the street with her eyes, but she didn't find anything notable. She then closed her eyes, and tried smelling the air again. The now usual reek of the cars' exhaust gases, alcohol and badly cooked meat was obviously the first thing that hit her nostrils, but there was a small speck that sent a different impression.

She opened her eyes again, now very interested in whatever… or rather, whoever she had found. She hastened her pace and headed towards the source of the familiar smell. Her eyes still couldn't tell her anything useful, and the smell was still too weak for her to figure who it originated from. Or, she could have if she had a little more time to think about it, but she didn't have time now. Still, these were minor issues. If she kept following the scent to its source, she would find one of them. Of that, she was almost sure.

She opened her eyes again, sensing that her prey had turned left in a small back alley. She elbowed her way through some befuddled bystanders, not caring about the fact that she was starting to attract the attention of the crowd. Normally, someone with the elegant looks of a mature woman, such as her, wouldn't be the kind of person to be mistaken for a stalker, but since she was being as subtle as an elephant on a hydrangea bed, some heads started to turn in her direction.

She found a group of boys, three of which were noticeably half-drunk, in her way, so she grabbed the nearest one and knocked his forehead against the face of another one. She then jumped over the two teenagers sprawled on the ground, and resumed her chase, before anyone of them could shake off the surprise and try to identify her.

She hastened her pace, and found herself once again impaired by a woman loaded with a number of bags that would normally be carried by a lift truck. Yuuka could have simply shoved her aside, if the annoying woman hadn't been pressed in a row of people packed together so tightly that trying to topple over one of them would be about as easy as trying to tear a brick from a wall barehanded. So, Yuuka chose to simply jump over her. She gained speed and then executed a perfect somersault over the head of the woman, landing on top of the man next to the overloaded woman, toppling him over and knocking him flat on the ground. This, in turn, caused a domino effect that made the entire row of people, already packed together very tightly, to fall. Two or three people, among the ones on the edges of the row, were so pressed that they were whisked away at very unhealthy speeds, crashing against some streetlight.

Merrily humming the same sweet tune to herself, Yuuka kept chasing the familiar smell, completely disregarding the mayhem she left behind her, with people screaming and calling for the orcops, to no avail since Yuuka had already disappeared following the olfactory trail. And right now, she felt it incredibly close… LEFT!

Yuuka lunged into the dark alley at her left, closed her eyes once again, and smelled the air. Unfortunately, the familiar scent had seemingly disappeared.

She did not understand. It was there, just a moment ago. Where could it have gone?

She took a look around her: the dark alley was completely empty, no living soul was in sight. The overpowering reek of oil was poisoning the air, and the delicious essence she had felt until just a moment ago was gone. Yuuka looked up, but neither the moon, hidden by the roofs, nor the sun, who yet had to rise, could give her a clue. The roofs and windows were silent, flat and anonymous, no one of them seemed interested in sending her a message to set her on the right path.

Her gaze trailed off to the ground, but the street was paved with the hostile asphalt, who wouldn't speak with her.

Looking around her, she could only see the buildings threateningly standing out against an oppressive, plumbeous and lifeless sky. The overall effect was crushing.

_I guess it's really like that, isn't it? I'm really here, my fears were right. Should have crushed the shrine, should have driven them all out, should have drained the lake… damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!_

Yuuka was trying to regain her composure, but the air was suffocating, and she really needed some sleep. That thrice-damned city should have at least ONE park, _right_?

Sighing, she started limping sadly, in search of a small flower bed, or something of the sort…

_**Author's notes**__: I actually had this chapter on my pc for quite some time, but I never got around to uploading it, because… well, mainly because I'm too lazy to proofread it. I repent and ask for your forgiveness…_

_As you may have noticed, Kanako's a real jerk here. Well, I have both bad and good news for you. The bad news is that yes, she's gonna be a bitch for a good part of the story, but the good news is that it's not set in stone that she'll be an unlikeable jerk throughout all of it. She may seem a bit OOC, and, to be honest, she _is_, but there's a reason for that. And if you're wondering about that bit of backstory about her and Sanae… well, I think you've already figured it out, but in case I hadn't been clear, let's just say that she doesn't remember being a native goddess…_

_Also, since my beta-reader (whom I thank again for his help!) already asked the setting is the "normal" outside world, twenty minutes into the future, to say it with TvTropes. The reason why Kanako has some old vinyl discs is just that she prefers them._


	3. Family is a strange thing

"Mom? I'm home!"

The person who had just said these three words was Alice Margatroid, once dollmaker and mage, now but a simple college student, with a penchant for acting and a knack for attracting weird people. Weird people such as…

"Aliiiiii-ii-ice, darling!" sang Shinki, Alice's definitely weird adoptive mother. "I missed you sooo-o-oh-oh-oh-oo much while you were out!" she went on, doing her best impression of the Queen of the Night "Tell me, how's your day been?"

"Fine, mom, don't worry. I just need to pass the last exam on post-Freudian psychoanalysis and then this year'll finally be over…" Alice answered tiredly, just before falling onto the sofa, slumping along all of its length.

"You sound sooo blue, what's up?" Shinki probably wasn't listening to her. "It must be what, the fourth time I told you today? I'm just tired, this is my last year of university and the pressure's very high. And I can't wait for it to be over. That's all." Well, it wasn't the whole truth, but Alice had no intention of talking with her mother about her issues with Marisa. She'd been friends with her for quite some time, but recently, she had set on a dangerous path.

_Ahh, damn… Why can't anything be easy?_

Shinki was thoroughly unconvinced by Alice's half-hearted explanation – or, to better say, excuse. That girl was definitely adorable, but needed to learn to take it easy and not be ashamed of asking others for help or advice. She really seemed intent to carry all the world upon her shoulders. Speaking of that…

She began merrily humming "Hey Jude", almost as to drop a thinly-veiled hint to her adopted daughter. A hint that flew over the girl's head, as she was currently too busy mulling over Marisa's issues and the overwhelming powerlessness she felt from the knowledge that no matter how much friends they were, she hadn't been able and probably won't ever be able to help her.

Which exteriorly translated in lying face-down on the worn-out sofa, sulking with a pained expression. Now, Shinki was no telepath, but it didn't take one to know that Alice's current state could not be ascribed to the last exams' stress. But if she didn't want to talk about it, prying would only make her feel uneasy and more reluctant. Still, if there was something bothering her treasure of a daughter, all Shinki had to do was try to make her feel at ease. Sadness only lasts so long before leaving emptiness in its place. And if there was something Shinki had learned in all her years, was how to make people feel at ease, and filling the emptiness of the soul.

There are many ways to do that: music, which was, for Shinki, the first example to come to mind, so she ran off to the chest which contained her collection of CDs.

It was an old, wooden treasure chest, of the kind you'd see in a movie about pirates, but instead of being full of gold and trinkets, it was filled by an ungodly amount of discs, each with its own label. It actually didn't contain Shinki's _whole_ collection – that one was kept safe in the basement, at Yumeko's suggestion. The chest only contained Shinki's favorite discs, and they were still numerous enough to give her technical problems any time she tried to open or close it.

The white-haired woman, eager to perform her motherly duties, didn't waste a second and immediately started rummaging through the CDs, looking for one suitable to cheering up her obviously heavy-hearted adoptive daughter.

_La fille du régiment_, no, Alice didn't like it, _Il Barbiere di Siviglia_, she already listened to it yesterday, maybe _Die Zauberflöte? _No, Alice never actually wanted to go through it again because Sarastro annoyed her to no end. Also, she had heard the Queen of the Night's aria far too many times, Shinki thought to herself, chuckling. _Così fan tutte_ was out of the question, this was one of those _very_ rare operas Shinki herself didn't like. The _Rigoletto_, a masterpiece, but not suitable for cheering someone up.

_Wait! Waitwaitwait… Aha!_ Thought Shinki triumphantly, after finding in the pirate-styled treasure chest she kept her collection in a certain disc. The original 1967 edition of _L'Elisir d'Amore_, with Renato Capecchi as Doctor Dulcamara. That one was _perfect_. She took the case containing the precious disc from the pile, trying not to upset its balance, but failing miserably and sending the mass of discs tumbling down on the floor.

Hoping that no one was broken or damaged, she started putting them back in place. She soon stopped right in the middle of the operation after remembering why she had consulted her collection: she needed to cheer Alice up, and Capecchi was itching to start singing. And it wouldn't do to keep him waiting, wouldn't it? With that thought, she sprinted towards the hi-fi system, put the CD in and pressed "play".

The ouverture started immediately, so Shinki quickly got back to her collection. She was relieved to see that none of the discs was damaged, and after finishing her task, she got back to the living room to see how Alice was doing.

The blonde had noticed that her mother had turned up the music, yet was simply too tired to care. She was thinking about what she could prepare for dinner: with Yumeko temporarily unavailable, Alice was dead set on making sure that her food independency was guaranteed, so the first thing she did was putting the water-filled pot on the stove. She had thought about preparing a western-style dinner like the ones both Marisa and herself liked, but she changed her mind after seeing that the kitchen cupboard was half-empty and lacking the ingredients. She about to take the spaghetti she had bought out of the bag, when Shinki barged in.

"Aliiice, don't worry! I'm making dinner today!", said Shinki. After all, filling the emptiness of the soul was good and all, but it wouldn't help if one left the stomach empty too, right?

"No, thanks, mom. I can cook by myself, you know" was Alice's unenthusiastic retort.

"Just because you _can_ doesn't mean you _need_ to~" replied Shinki with a wink and a sunny smile.

Unfortunately, Alice wasn't in the mood for joking. She already had things on her mind, and desperately needed to distract herself with cooking. So she pushed away her mother with a sigh and said "No, mom, really. I want to do it myself. I know you're better than me at this, but… please, I just want to do it by myself", and then she added with a smile "Besides, it's already embarrassing enough to be still living with you, think what my friends would say if they found out I can't even cook spaghetti properly."

"You mean they make _you_ cook? Some friends they are" said Shinki, though it was clear from her tone and her smile that she was being ironic.

Alice sighed and replied "No, mom, everybody brings their part at picnics, and I'm the only one who knows how to cook western-style food. Marisa's always bugging me for it-"

Shw was cut short from Shinki ruffling her hair and chirping "I knooow how picnics work, dearie, I was just teasing you a bit! Though, if you want help I'm always here!"

"How could I possibly forget it, mom?"

Alice was smiling again. _Mission accomplished_, thought Shinki, not without more than a hint of pride. "But we don't have any spaghetti, so what do you think we should cook?", she then asked.

"Nice try, mom, but this time I _have_ been foresighted enough to stop by at Satsuki's and buy some. Your spinach quiche is gonna have to wait."

"Awww, and I had just bought the spinaches and the eggs…" pouted Shinki.

"Then keep them for tomorrow, I'm having lunch with Marisa, and Sanae and they love your quiche."

"Ooookay! Then you'd better take the pot off the fire if you're making spaghetti!". Alice took a look at the pot and noticed that the water had long since started boiling, and was currently spilling all over the burner, making a hissing sound.

"Dammitdammitdammitdammit!" shouted Alice before taking the pot's lid off, taking a spoonful of salt and throwing it in the boiling water, picking up the spaghetti and shoving them in the pot.

Two seconds passed before the comprehension of the fact that the lid's metal handle was burning hot, and that the palm of her hand was now hurting like hell dawned on Alice. Her brain took only a few milliseconds to elaborate the aforementioned fact, and remind her that, by now, she should be screaming in pain. Which she just did.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAH!"

Shinki was torn between two instinctive reactions: either laughing at Alice's clumsiness or hugging her precious child and kissing her forehead and lulling her with some of the many sweet melodies she knew – _Some Irish lullaby maybe, or, hell, why not even _–

She was interrupted in the middle of her daydreaming by the real, quite pissed off Alice, who was now shouting at her to help her prepare the sauce.

"Of course, dearie!" she answered with an eager smile, as if Alice hadn't just stopped shouting just a few seconds before. Then, she grabbed the tomato masher, as she liked to call it, and dropped four big, plump, deliciously juicy-looking peeled tomatoes, then started turning the handle, thrashing the tomatoes and splashing sauce everywhere. Alice took offense to that, and tried taking the masher off the hands of her currently too busy laughing her ass off foster mother.

"Mom! Now it's not the time to have a food fight! Please, I'm tired and I just want to cook something for dinner and go to bed…"

Shinki stared at her daughter with a quizzical look, then said: "You're so gloomy today… are you sure you're really ok? Isn't there something you're not telling me?"

Alice was starting to lose her cool. "_No, mom_. _I'm only tired, OK?_"

Shinki smiled, a smile that almost went from ear to ear, then opened her mouth and sang "_Figlia miiiia, non looo speraaa-a-ate/Ch'io mi lasci infinocchiar…"_

_Here she goes again…_ thought Alice, and tried to stop the overexcited white-haired woman before she woke up the whole neighborhood. Not that they'd dare to complain, but it wasn't a nice thing to do anyway. "Mom…", she whined, but right now Shinki was completely ignoring her. She raised her voice a bit, and repeated "Mom!", but her mother kept singing.

"_A-un-dot-tor-del-la mia sor-te/ques-te scu-se si-gno-ri-na/vi-con-si-glio mia ca-ri-na…"_.

Alice this time shouted "MOM! SHUT! UP!" It worked, and Shinki immediately got silent. Trying to ignore her mother's infamous puppy dog eyes combined with her very convincing hurt expression, she only said: "Let me finish cooking dinner. After this, I'm going to bed. Stop harassing me."

Shinki muttered some apologies with a sad face, then quickly left the kitchen. Alice was in an even worse mood than she'd anticipated. A clear sign that something was wrong. Very wrong. _Tired because of the exams my ass_, she thought, excusing herself for the Gallicism. _But right now she isn't going to tell me anything. Tomorrow, though…_

She wandered a bit through the house, when her eye fell on the hi-fi. She didn't feel like hearing the _Love Elixir_ to the end, so she ejected the disc right when Dulcamara was starting his first aria. A real shame, but Capecchi won't be performing this evening.

_Ahh, I'll just have to wait until Alice has finished her dinner. Then, let her calm down. But she'll tell me, just wait and see!,_ Thought Shinki. _What can that girl's problem be?_

* * *

_Alouette, gentille alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai…_

Humming the merry tune in her head, the little gray-haired girl is running through the people crowding a rather… crowded street. It is one of the largest avenues, where all the shopping malls of a certain levels are concentrated, and where it is easier to find distracted shoppers carrying some attractively full wallets.

_Je te plumerai la tête, je te plumerai la tête…_

Thanks to her small stature, she has no problems in slipping through the crowd without being noticed, and she is so used to this kind of runs that she's able to proceed forward without needing to stop, simply hopping and swerving from left to right whenever she sees an opening in the legged forest. She always keeps her eyes open for wallets sticking out, badly placed shoulder bags – it is easy to make it look like they simply slipped – and open pockets.

No one was better at acrobatic theft than this small, raggedy and dirty little girl, who could pick a pocket in less than two seconds and leave as only trace the faint tune of a children's song.

_Alouette, gentille alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai…_

During her acrobatic run, she sees a wallet sticking out the left pocket of a tall man with a raincoat. He is quite distant, so she has to make a run for it.

Slipping quickly between the legs of a girl who is walking her dog, then below the intertwined hands of a couple who is taking a stroll, she then ducks and dives forward, dodges a group of people and reaches her target.

_Je te plumerai le bec, je te plumerai le bec…_

She approaches her prey singing merrily, and just two seconds after the wallet has entered the range of her hands, it has already disappeared in some crease of her dress. She jumps backwards, landing belly-first on the very edge of the sidewalk, rolls on her back and quickly starts crawling her way through the passerbys, who are too distracted to notice her until she is already gone.

_Alouette, gentille alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai…_

Suddenly, a loud, pained moan rises above the buzz of the street: the raincoated man had just found out that his wallet had disappeared. The little girl steers her run right and resumes her almost dance-like routine of slipping among the crowd.

_Je te plumerai les yeux, je te plumerai les yeux…_

Not long after, word has spread among the crowd that there is a pickpocket among the people. Not noticing them, the little ragamuffin keeps leaping and sliding towards a candy shop. On her way, she picks one or two wallets on the fly. Soon, someone notices the diminutive girl in tattered clothing who is running with incredible grace through the people, and screams, pointing in her direction: "There she is! Catch her!".

A choir of howls immediately rises, and the shoppers and passer-bys begin running around, some trying to catch the pickpocket, others trying to call the orcops, only to find themselves stumbling in search of someplace quiet enough so that the officer would understand what they said. A sharply dressed woman had retreated in a back alley and is trying to make a phone call behind a folding screen she just got out of her bag.

An old man is whacking random people on the head, screaming "thief, thief!", oblivious to the fact that the actual thief was running away at more than a hundred meters away from him.

_Alouette, gentille alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai…_

Advancing steadily through the mayhem, the completely unfazed child thief finally reaches her destination: a gutter pipe protruding from the walls of the candy store. She jumps and begins climbing it, faster and more agile than a monkey, putting one foot after the other on the pipe. For a few seconds, all the people who were rabidly hunting for her pause, bewildered, wondering what the hell the little kid wants to do. When she reaches the roof of the store, they all snap out of their surprise and try to follow her. A group of four men gather around the gutter pipe, and immediately start arguing over who is going first. A more numerous group of people rush inside the store to take the stairs, but when they finally reach the roof, they are disappointed to see that the diminutive pickpocket has already begun a parkour-like run on the roofs. They try to follow her, but none of them has the courage to jump from one roof to another, so some just give up and climb down the stairs to go back to minding their own business. The ones who stay starts shouting profanities to the girl who was currently jumping from one roof to another.

* * *

Soon, the girl disappears from their sight. The ruckus immediately calms down, and everybody resumes their normal activities. Meanwhile, the little girl is standing on the top of the roof of an old, short apartment building with a courtyard. She grabs another gutter pipe and descends as if it was the pole of a firestation. As soon as she touches the ground, three excited voices greet her:

"She's back! She's back!"

"Really?"

"Come here!"

The three voices belong to three little girls, more or less as tall as the little thief. All the three of them are wrapped in tattered bedsheets and wear old jackets and dirty and torn skirts. One of them has remarkably blue hair, the other has green hair and the third, the only one with a natural hair color, is blonde. They emerge from the shadows of the decaying building and tackle-hug the little thief, whose only reaction is to stretch her arms and welcome them, only to be toppled over by the aggressive hug and thrown to the ground by the three kids.

"We missed you so much… It's been three days since you left! I thought that something had happened to you!" cries the green-haired one, tears of joy in her eyes.

"Yeah, ya gave us all a big scare! How did'ja think yer sister felt when we told her that ya were nowhere to be found, ya big… dumb… meltbrain! What the hellsicles were ya thinkin'?" bursts out the blue-haired girl, half-reprimanding and half-laughing.

On the pickpocket's face appears the hint of an half-hearted smile, so faint that it's almost unnoticeable. Nevertheless, the three girls seem to pick up on that minuscule display of emotions from their companion, and smother her in hugs before lifting her up on their shoulders and parading her across the courtyard.

After the girls' enthusiastic show of affection has wound down a bit, the little thief says "Sorry."

The blonde immediately answers "Damn right you're sorry, we didn't know where you were and the other girls were getting nervous thinking that they'd lost you! You better have brought something nice from your little trip! Otherwise…" a devilish grin crosses her face.

"Rumia's right, lass. Since ya went through all the trouble of disappearing for three days, I wanna know what the hellsicles you were up to! Ya got a few good snatches, at least?"

"Yes." Was the only answer from the little thief, followed by "put me down."

The three follow the order, and as soon as they laid their friend on the floor, she starts extracting from her pockets – and a number of other less-noticeable folds and crevices in her dress – all her preys. A good number of wallets and one purse, some 10,000 yen banknotes and a pair of socks.

Cirno's eyes lightened up at the sight of the loot, and she emitted a high-pitched squee: "That's great! Now we'll have enough to buy tickets for the Luna Park! Wo-hooooo!", and she immediately added "Oh, and the medicines for your sis, 'course. Great job!"

The thief just looked up and replied "You're welcome."


	4. Setting the stage

All in all, this was a day she'd very much rather forget. Except that, of course, she had an awfully intricate situation – about which she had only partial knowledge – to take care of, and the only person who could help her was Yuuka Kazami. The flower youkai. The woman who thought was funny to make sex jokes about Reimu and had no idea of how the outside world worked.

_I suppose I should be thankful that she hasn't yet tried to dance around naked in the woods_, she thought grimly.

Oh, and last but not least of her problems, she had lost her power over borders. Of course, it was of no use thinking about that now, it would only cloud her mind and prevent her from following the next steps of the plan she had prepared.

She opened the door, and said "Mary, I'm home!"

To greet her came a blond-haired girl who bore a stunning resemblance to herself, except for the height and a timid expression on her face that Yukari herself would have never worn.

"Good evening Yukari… you're ok? You want something to eat?" she asked.

"No… right now I just want the couch, a phone and some calm. Thanks." Yukari replied.

Mari let her in, and Yukari headed towards the couch of the simple two-rooms apartment, after closing the shutters. She threw herself on it, and her mind grinded in high gears. At first, it was mostly on the level of self-commiserating and lamenting her unenviable situation. _And I have to track them all back by myself, as Yuuka will be probably be looking for a patch of grass where to sleep! Great, just great!_

After having spent almost half an hour moping and having gotten the recent depression out of her system, her mind, as if it was relieved of a weight, finally shifted into high gears, and questions and answers started popping up almost spontaneously in her mind. It was just a little stress, after all. She had a very bad day, and apparently now the lack of sleep affected her. After having purged her mind of every ounce of melancholy, she was as functional as ever.

_First off, this entire incident smacks me as a kind of dimensional crossover. If I'm right, while making the transfer, _something _must have crossed into the border. The possibilities are endless, but it still must have been something pretty powerful for it to alter both events of the past and laws of magic in such a way, but at the same time keeping me, Yuuka, Maribel, Yasaka and possibly others the same persons we were before. So it's likely that behind this incident there's some kind of will._

Having faced more than once the problems of interdimensional travel and the unpleasant folks that could be met while coursing through dimentions, Yukari Yakumo knew all too well the attention of what kind of powerful creatures the contact could have drawn. Still, there was something very strange: for some reason, she, Yuuka Kazami and Kanako Yasaka were all there. Yukari herself was aware that while her powers were mostly gone, her supernatural senses were still with her: she could still sense borders and interact with them, she still had some kind of intuition, but the higher workings of reality were out of her reach. Which worried her quite a lot. Not only because of the risk being powerless in the Outside world entailed for her, but also because the possible explanations for this sudden disappearance of her powers – and of all of Gensokyo as well – were many, but not one of them was comforting in the slightest. Still, she just didn't know enough to figure out a wise course of action to take, so for now, she'd better just stick to the basic safety rules.

_Still… It feels like there's something I didn't consider…_

The realization of what should have been disarmingly obvious dawned upon her just a second after. It took her a few seconds to recover from the shock, after which she simply held her hand at the height of her forehead, mechanically placed its palm over her face, and let out a sigh.

_Of course there was something wrong, you idiot. This incident happened only two days ago. How could have Yasaka managed to become top manager of a multinational enterprise in only two days? So I'll probably have to take also temporal displacements into account._

And temporal displacements are always a major complication. They were even back in the first days of Gensokyo, when she had to make sure that nobody ended up displaced in the wrong time. Having youkai running around in a 21st century Kyoto would have been a disaster, after all, especially considering the youkai from the days of old weren't the relatively peaceful youkai of today, with a knack for kidnapping humans they found cute or funny to treat them to tea or… intimate contacts. Those were bonafide vicious and spiteful monsters who ate humans for breakfast, lunch and dinner and never gave up on an occasion to torment them.

_When exactly did we turn into a gang of touchy-feely friendly neighborhood Youkai, anyway?_ She idly wondered, but immediately gave up that thought. It wasn't the time to dwell on the past. Though she still felt somewhat dazzled from that "vicious and spiteful monsters". What the hell, she was one of them!

Anyway, temporal displacements. If there was an advantage in that, it was that she still had her heightened senses, which meant that she could notice particularly large temporal displacements. After getting an appointment with Yasaka, she could verify it. So, no point wasting time.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number she'd found on the company's site. She didn't expect to be answered immediately, but she knew how to be persistent enough.

"Hello? Yasaka Industries here, can I help you with something?" answered a voice at the other end of the phone.

"Well, yes. I was hoping I could speak with Yasaka Kanako." the former Elder Youkai nonchalantly answered.

There was a long pause, then the secretary (as Yukari assumed she was one) answered, embarrassed: "…I don't… I don't think I can help you with that, miss…?"

"Yakumo."

"Yakumo, right. Do you have an appointment?" asked the secretary.

"No, but-" Yukari tried to answer before she was cut off.

"Then I'm sorry but I can't pass her to you" the woman on the other side of the phone hastily said. It was clear that she was trying to chase Yukari away. Oh, well… backup plan, then.

"Then, can you get me an appointment?" asked Yukari.

"I'm afraid it won't be-" the secretary started to say before Yukari cut her off again.

"Tell her it's Yakumo for her, she might change her mind."

"Listen miss, I-"

"Just tell her it's Yakumo here, and that if she's interested she can call me at this number. Oh, and, please, do tell her that I have some… information she might find of vital importance. And that in her best interest, she'd better listen to what I have to say. That's all.", and without expecting an answer, she hung up, leaving a baffled secretary on the other end.

_This should at least make her suspicious enough to track me down, if I know her well. Provided that the secretary doesn't simply write this off as some kind of stupid prank. I'll have to wait until then._

She was then faced with the question of how to spend that time. She could look for Reimu on her own, true, but she had no idea where to start by now. And, most important of all, she hadn't actually slept since the incident. Now, she had a much higher endurance to sleep deprivation than a human, but despite her status as an Elder Youkai, she still needed to sleep. And this was a good moment to do it.

And without a word, she lay on the couch and fell asleep.

* * *

At the same time, in Kanako's office, a bell rang.

Kanako was snatched from Mozart by the sudden entrance of a peculiar-looking woman. She had long green hair, a formal tuxedo with a blue papillon covered in yellow stars and moons, and a grin that would make the Buddha himself want to punch her.

"Miss Yasaka, I guess?", she meowed. Her voice was deep and had a falsely-happy, almost mocking tone.

"Exactly. And you'd be miss Kirigoe, right?" replied a rather unfazed Kanako.

"You can call me Mima… miss, you know? No need to be formal…" the eccentric woman giggled teasingly.

"I'd rather _be _formal, thanks." Kanako interrupted her.

"Oh well. Anyway, we should cut to the chase. Why did you call for me, _miss_?"

"Well, I want you to find a certain person." Kanako answered.

"Well, that much was evident, of course. But who? A debtor who's late at payment? A competitor? …An old flame?" added Mima, fluttering her eyes.

"None of these. Actually, I don't know who this person is… I only have a picture of her."

Mima flashed an amused grin. Kanako only sighed and took the photograph out of her desk's drawer. In the picture, there was what looked like a twelve-year-old blonde girl with a rather bizarre hat, smiling towards the camera. Since she had found that photograph in her attic three months ago, that smile, so full of energy and youthfulness, haunted Kanako's dreams during her lonely nights. Every time she saw her, she was sure she had known her once, but she couldn't for the life of her remember where, or even _who_ this mysterious little girl was. Some would say that she probably met her in a previous life.

Now, while Kanako, being the rational, if somewhat moody and short-tempered person she is, would usually brush aside such nonsense, in this case she was starting to believe that such a theory wasn't actually _that_ far-fetched.

While the purple-haired woman was lost in her musings, Mima took a good look at the photo, muttered something to herself and handed it over to Kanako, who took it without saying anything.

"So? Do you have any idea where to find her? Maybe…"

Mima immediately cut her off: "two hundred thousand yen a week, with weekly updates on any results, six point five million yen at the end of the work. Give or take.", she said with a smirk.

"What? I'll give you one hundred thousand and three million, not a single yen more."

"Two hundred thousand." Insisted Mima.

"One hundred thirty-thousand." Replied Kanako.

"I said, two hundred thousand a week, plus six and a half million at the end of the week. Give or take, miss Yasaka. No bargaining, I'm a detective, not a saleswoman. You want your girl, you pay me what I ask. Unless, of course, you want people to know that the upstanding Kanako Yasaka likes little girls, hm?" was Mima's reply.

Kanako still looked unfazed, but her left eyebrow was visibly twitching. "…First, it's not what you think. I don't have _that_ kind of interest towards the girl in the picture. Secondly, I could very well throw you out of my office and ask someone else, if you don't want to be reasonable."

Mima's grin didn't waver for a second: "You won't do it."

Kanako asked "What makes you think that?"

The smug-faced woman simply closed her eyes and said: "Because if you've come to me, you're already out of options. You know I'm the best. And you'd never risk putting your stakes on my plate if you weren't in absolute need of it. I did a bit of digging before coming here, you know? Besides…"

"Besides what?" asked, annoyed, Kanako.

"Besides we both know that _private detective_ around here is just an euphemism for "Yakuza hit man". _I_ am something else..." Mima let out a giggle. Kanako didn't know if she should take it as a mockery or the symptom of some freaky mental disease manifesting itself in the green haired woman in front of her.

Kanako didn't look impressed. "Miss Fukui, please, escort her out of my office", she told the secretary on the interphone.

Mima's deadpan smirk, however, didn't even falter even when the short, bespectacled woman entered the room and timidly asked her to leave. She did exactly that, and no more than thirty seconds after the detective had left the room, Kanako spoke again to the interphone: "Ok, Kirigoe, I give up. Get your ass here and I'll sign the contract".

The annoying detective hadn't impressed Kanako much at first, but that self-confidence she had was definitely something. And if it was true that she had been doing that job for more than twenty years, and it hadn't got her killed yet, maybe her reputation was more well-earned than Kanako had thought when she first met her.

_Screw it, I have enough money to spend it on something like this anyway._

Mima set foot in her office for the second time moments after she had thought this. "Oh, thanks Miss Yasaka, you really are generous like they say!" Mima chirped to the annoyed Kanako.

"Yes, yes, now please, go out and start doing your job. I'm already paying you quite a lot. I hope for you that it will be worth it."

"It will be, Yasaka. I always keep my promises…" Purred Mima. "Well then… the contract?"

Kanako took out a sheet of paper, covered in text. Mima gave it a quick read: it didn't take her more than two minutes. That wasn't written in her business card or in her CV, but Kanako could bet that the woman had to have a law degree too. After reading it through, she let out a satisfied hum and wrote in her messy handwriting "Kirigoe Mima". Kanako signed after her.

"So," stated Mima, "find out who this girl is, where she lives and other personal data, then just point you to her, that's all?"

"Exactly. And once you have done so, you will get your 6 and a half million yen. And keep me updated, of course. I also expect you to answer to any phone calls from 12 to 20 o' clock. That's all." Replied Kanako in her business tone.

"You can rest safe miss", said Mima, getting up from the chair, after which she started walking towards the door "your girl will be in your hands before you can say "You're fired!". And I keep my promises…"

Then, the green-haired woman got up with a smile, walked to the door, shot a suggestive glance at Kanako (or her chest, which one was unclear) and walked out.

A few minutes later, Kanako had started mulling yet again over her encounter with Mima. Despite what she claimed, that woman looked like she was everything but professional, and that probably she thought she lived in some hardboiled detective B-movie where she was the protagonist. _If she doesn't turn out any actual results in some time, I can still rip the contract and kick her out of my office…_

She enjoyed the thought for a few seconds, then got up and scooped up her jacket, which had fallen to the floor. _Day's over. Thank goodness._

She wasn't looking forward to going back home, actually. Her encounter with this supposed "great detective" had left her nervous and worried.

_Why the hell fretting so much? That's not like me…_ thought Kanako.

Since she had discovered that photograph she had been obsessed with finding that girl, without understanding why. Her mind would keep going back to the picture, imagining the girl with golden hair, worrying over where she might be, making up hypotheses over nothing, and never leaving her alone for one second, urging her to find the girl.

And she had no idea why.

Until then, she had never wanted human contact, and had generally pushed away people when they were of no use to her. Even with Sanae she always felt very awkward and tried to interact the least possible. And now, she was losing her mind over a little girl of which she didn't even know the name. Or if she was still alive. Or where she lived…

So, why?

She had, of course, asked herself this question many times. And none of that times she could find an answer, as soon some frightening concerns rose: was she alive? Was she well? She didn't know where the girl lived, who her parents were, or if she even had any parents at all. Maybe she lived in a slum, maybe she…

Immediately, Kanako's thoughts ran to the hundreds of scenarios where the unknown child lived a horrible life. One of the scariest was the one where her parents had been killed, maybe by the Yakuza. Maybe with one of the guns her industries sold.

She almost regretted pressuring the parliament for loosening gun control laws.

It was strange, it was completely illogical, yet… the moment she thought of that eventuality, it clung to Kanako's brain and never left, tormenting her with anxiety and paranoia.

And a strange, new feeling.

Guilt.

…

That was bad, she was getting too agitated, she had already started hyperventilating.

She needed something to relax. But Sanae was waiting for her at home…

_Screw it, she can make dinner for herself. I'll tell her not to wait for me._

She picked up her phone and dialed her own house's number.

After half a minute, Sanae picked up the phone: "Yes, mom, is that you?"

"I already told you to not fucking call me mom!" yelled Kanako, definitely not in the mood for playing responsible parent.

A long pause followed, first signaled by heavy breathing on the other end, then total silence. Just when Kanako was starting to think that the girl had left the phone, Sanae answered again: "…Ok. What- what's up?"

"I'm not coming home until at least midnight today. You can make your own dinner with what's in the fridge."

"An important business reunion?" asked the girl, a slight wavering in her voice.

"Mind your own fucking business, darling." Kanako coldly replied, then hung up.

Then, she got up from the damned chair (that was still giving her backache), exited her office, closed the door and headed to the gym.

She really, really needed to beat someone.

_Author's notes: Heeeere's the fourth chapter! What took me so long? Various things: mainly schoolwork and my laziness. Inexplicably, I tend to already have ideas for my chapters, but more often than not I end up getting stuck when I try to actually write them down. For some reason, I wanted to make Kanako's internal monologue longer, but… I don't know, I couldn't find anything else to put in. Not this soon anyway._

_Oh wait, I have an actual plot planned down? Damn, why am I always the last one to find things out?_


	5. The first castaway joins the crew

The sun had finally risen over Gensokyo City, and a haunting presence had followed it. Yuuka had just awakened from the flower bed – the only one in miles, inside a small patch of green in the midst of the urban desert.

Feeling refreshed, she got dressed again, sadly registering the absence of her usual flower pajama. The thought brought a tear to her eye, but she wiped it off and, after she had finished getting dressed, scrambled with a smile on her face to return to her yesterday activities, namely finding any known faces from Gensokyo and drag them to Yukari.

Of course, her searches until now hadn't turned out anything useful: neither the few still living trees, all too often blinded by the poisonous smokes of the city. She had drawn a few suspicious looks from the humans in the zone, but she was still intimidating enough that no-one went further than giving her a funny look and scuttling as soon as they met her eyes, who were placed just above an unfriendly grin which conveyed very well the message "Don't bother me or I'll use your corpse as fertilizer".

But still, zero results. Yuuka's gut was telling her that there was no way things could stay this static for long, and something of importance should be happening in minutes.

For now, though, she hadn't been getting anything but rumors and complaints about various issues, such as the government, prices at bars or restaurants – Yukari would have probably agreed with them – and juvenile delinquency. And something about the old underground stations.

It could have been a lead, as it could have just been misleading. And Yuuka sincerely hoped it was the second.

She felt very, very uncomfortable in the deep, sunless caves. She had gone to Old Hell once, back in Gensokyo, and it had been one of the most unpleasant experiences of her life. It had taken quite some time to get the poisonous voices out of her head: while the first levels, still populated by some forms of plant life, were , at worst, still and silent, the deeper ones were mostly inhabited only by those fungi who were hardened enough to stand the high temperatures and rarified water and air.

And _they_ were _certainly not_ going to welcome her.

She was spacing out, again.

Again.

This wasn't good. This city wasn't good. Despite what Yukari said, she wasn't convinced that this was merely a dimensional displacement. This place was too real, felt too real… but where Gensokyo was a gentle breeze, or a vivifying, if heavy, rain. That city, instead, had a sick, scorching touch, that got directly under her skin, burning and flaying her flesh.

But she wasn't going to accomplish anything by concentrating on her present unease. So, she forced herself to keep walking.

And she didn't like what she saw.

Human children hiding in the sewers, running from the more organized gangs or the so-called police. Fighting to death over a crumb of bread or a pair of shoes.

She snorted. Not only humans mistreated her kind, but didn't even use the gifts they had forcefully taken to guarantee happiness to all of their own. She was really starting to think that if humans could only squander her precious gifts, then plants might as well take them back. After all, it is madness to take water from the still green leaves to give it to the old, shriveled ones.

Humans really had a strange way of thinking.

She set aside those thoughts again, thinking in abstract would get her nowhere. Still, she had no idea where to look.

When…

The familiar odor from the day before immediately struck her. This time she was positively certain: she knew that scent.

_Not distant, 400 meters maximum, on the left,_ was what her senses told her.

She reacted immediately, and sped off towards the source of the scent, before stopping herself mid-run: she was starting to remember whose smell was the one she was feeling, and with that realization came the conclusion that a different approach was in order. Her prey was a sneaky and fearful one, so, if she started running like a bear, stomping over everything in her path, she would scare her off and lose another day. So, she slowed down and glanced around to find the person she was looking for amongst the others.

It was still a little hard to tell them apart by faces, but she had been getting plenty of exercise on that, so, when she finally spotted her prey, she took a few seconds to confirm it was that person. And indeed she was: even when trying to be as anonymous and unassuming as possible, the night sparrow was unmistakable, even without head-wings.

Yuuka took a few more steps in the direction of her target, and in the meantime she scanned her surroundings. She felt a dark, deep-brown smell of burning wood coming from Mistya's position, along with the animal stench of burned flesh. Apparently, she was cooking something. Her eyes only confirmed what her other senses already knew: she was standing on a recycled old cart and spinning some skewered meat over a wood fire. A very, very dangerous thing to do.

The flower master moved a step towards Mistya, when she saw a couple of ominous-looking humans, covered in black clothing and wearing on their heads a black helmet which concealed their faces, approaching her prey. The tallest and largest of the two interrupted the sparrow's work by grabbing her arm and forcing her to face him, then muttered something. The words were muffled by the ending, but Yuuka was pretty sure she heard something about a "selling license".

Mistya tried to wriggle free, and the man smacked her in the face, then threw her to the ground. The second person neared, and gave a kick to her head.

Yuuka felt something flare up inside her. Whether it was rage or pure survival instinct, she leaped over and grabbed the taller one by the collar. Then, she ripped off the helmet in one smooth move, contemporarily swooping the ground with her leg and tripping the man, making him fall face-first on the ground.

After downing him, she pressed his head on the floor with her foot, turned to the other agent, unsheathed her best smile and said: "You can go~".

The policeman, instead, stood there, frozen for a few seconds, then produced something from his right side, but before he had any opportunity to use it, Yuuka had already leaped onto him and grabbed his wrist. The agent tried to hit Yuuka to no avail, and she then twisted his arm, kneed him in the crotch and finally forced him to bow with his hands behind his back. She was about to strip this one too of his helmet, when the first policeman, who had, in the meantime, managed to get up and draw his pistol, threatened her: "Hands up or I'll shoot!"

Yuuka simply lifted the resisting policeman to her height and said: "If you want to hit your friend, go ahead…"

The first officer tried to react, when Yuuka suddenly threw his colleague onto him, and they both tumbled to the ground because of the impact. They reached for their guns yet again, only to find that Yuuka had already taken them.

"Nuh-nuh, not going to happen~" Yuuka held up the stolen weapons and pointed one at the pair. "Now, forget this all happened, walk away nice and quiet, and I won't open a new orifice in your heads~"

"No way!" The smaller of the two had managed to untangle himself from his colleague and stand up. "Surrender yourself and maybe you'll only get five years instead of ten!"

Yuuka's only answer was to fire two shots to the bulkier officer's leg and shoulder. The thinner one squeaked and started running, carrying the other on his shoulder. While he was running, he screamed: "I won't forget this! We'll come back for you, bitch! You've signed your death sentence!"

After the two had gone out of sight, Yuuka turned her gaze to the terrified night sparrow, who was hiding under the cart, clutching her head.

"Hi miss! I'm Yuuka-" she started, but Mistya interrupted her immediately: "Are you _crazy_? Now those goons are gonna come back for me, and you too! Who do you think you are, Jet Li?"

Then, the night bird suddenly found out that lashing out at the weird woman right in front of her was a _very_ bad idea when Yuuka lifted her by her ankles.

"I just told you that I'm Yuuka. Mind your manners, wren."

_This loony's dead serious…_ thought Mistya with fright.

"He- hey, lady, I was- I was just scared, don't mind what I just said… uhm… can you put me down pleasepleaseplease?" she whimpered, tearing up a bit.

Yuuka smiled warmly, then put her back on the ground.

"Aren't you going to say thank you to big sis Yuuka? I just saved you from those… insects."

She was speaking like someone would speak to a kid. _Not a good sign_, thought Mistya.

The sparrow, still trembling and breathing heavily, complied: "We- well, thank you, miss Yuuka… he… he…"

"Awww, don't mention it, sweetie. Buuuuut…"

_Oh gods I knew it, she's gonna kill me or something of the sort_. Mistya's eyes edged around, only to discover that there was literally no one left in the square. Everybody probably already figured that it wasn't going to end well…

Shivering even more than before, Mistya timidly asked: "B- but what, m-miss Yuuka?"

Instead of answering, Yuuka seemed to space out for a few seconds, then, suddenly, drew her face uncomfortably close to Mistya's own.

Yuuka mimed a lovestruck tone: "What do you do for a living, my little lark?"

_Ok, this is getting seriously creepy,_ thought Mistya. _But, who knows what she'll do to me if I don't do as she says..._ Mistya remembered with horror what happened to the two orcops.

"W- well, I have a grill cart, but… why do you ask?"

Yuuka suddenly slapped her. "No, bad, bad sparrow! I'm the one making questions!" Then she paused, put up her honey smile again, and added: "Ok?"

Any doubts Mistya had about the woman's mental sanity were suddenly confirmed. _She's nuts. She's totally nuts,_ and added, maybe as an address to whatever cosmic force was drawing the lots for her destiny:_ Please, please, I don't wanna die…_

Yet, she still forced herself to answer as to not incur in Yuuka's wrath: "O… k?"

Yuuka's smile widened again. "Good bird. Now, tell me… you don't recognize me at all?"

Mistya was getting more and more confused by the scary woman's behavior. What was she trying to tell her, that she was some sort of long-lost relative who had come to this hellhole to drag her off the streets to let her live in luxury?

Well, now that she had calmed down enough to take a closer look to the strange woman currently in the process of questioning her, she did have some fancy clothes…

Yuuka suddenly spoke, interrupting her musings: "I see, so you really don't remember anything…"

Mistya was confused. Was that a hint of sadness in Yuuka's eyes?

Yuuka perked up immediately and continued, putting back up her smile: "Well, that's an unlucky occurrence. I'm sorry…"

"Uh? Sorry? Sorry for wha-" Mistya was starting to reply, but she was cut off when Yuuka grabbed her by her shoulders, loaded her on her back and sped off.

Yuuka ran for a bit, until she found the little secluded grass patch she had spent the last night in. She dived in, hiding in the high grass, then gently laid the still hyperventilating girl on the ground.

Mistya tried to speak, but the only sounds that came from her mouth were something along the lines of "Wha- wha- whu-?"

Yuuka immediately shushed her, and said: "I'm sorry, little sparrow, but I had to. You see… there are… things I have to tell you. Complicated things."

"Like… algebra or biology? What was it like… that thing that made blood red? Funny that, it's kinda the only thing I remembered from what prof Nakagawa told me, but now I can't remember it… homogli- hemegli-, no hemo… hemo someth- oof!" Yuuka interrupted her with an elbow to the stomach.

Yuuka then spat back: "No, you airheaded bird! What I'm saying is that… you may not know who you really are."

As she spelt that last sentence, her voice dropped dangerously almost to a whisper, and gave Mistya the chills. If she had thought so far that the person in front of her was just a crazy woman with incredible reflexes and fighting skills, for the first time she found herself wondering if she wasn't actually something more… if her… quirky behavior wasn't actually a sign of folly or some horrible mental disease, but a sign of something… else. She tried to brush aside those thoughts, but any attempt at clear reasoning simply crashed when she found herself staring inside Yuuka's eyes.

That… that was probably the moment her life took a turn for the bizarre. When things she couldn't have even dreamed of before, when she was simply a kid doing what she could to survive on the streets, from living off of the rare charity she got from random people to occasional thefts, always alone, always isolated and focused only on surviving… well, the same moment she looked into those eyes returning her a gaze that could only be described as inhuman and ancient, as if those eyes weren't actually placed in front of her, but they were actually staring back at her from the timeless abysses among the stars, the realization finally dawned on her of how what that woman was saying was true, that there was _something_ inside her, a part of her unknown to herself, a silent protector with her own face, who had been lurking in some small, obscure corner of her brain, only rarely surfacing to save her life when she was in actual, impending danger, had finally managed to force her to recognize it.

And after that mind-blowingly revelation, immediately came an equally mind-blowing cramp on her stomach. "Ouch!"

Yuuka glared at her: "Were you listening to what I was saying at all?"

Mistya promptly tried to answer… and found herself stuttering to answer: "We- well yes- I m- mean, I had a… oh, how do you… heh… heh…". She started hyperventilating, and took her a good thirty seconds to manage to stitch together enough coherence to give an intelligible answer: "Y- yes, I d- did, and I think that… you may be right." Her stomach gave her another cramp, this time also letting out a groan. She hadn't eaten for two days now, but with all the stress she had went through, first with the two orcops, then being kidnapped by Yuuka, she was too preoccupied with more pressing concerns to notice it, so the brief period of stunned quiet after… whatever the elegant madwoman in front of her did to her was the perfect occasion for her stomach to butt in and painfully remind her that it had been irritatingly empty for too much time.

Still, she had to find a way to tell it to Yuuka without angering her, which would have been quite a feat, as Mistya simply had known her for a grand total of maybe an hour, and the woman seemed completely unpredictable. And, shaken as she was, she wasn't sure she could muster the force to be diplomatic. Still…

"Y-Yuuka, I…" she tentatively spoke.

Yuuka, though, didn't reply, but simply closed her eyes, with an unexpectedly serious look appearing on her face. "Yes, Misty?"

"I- I think I believe you, but right now… Imabithungrycanieatsomethingpleasedontkillme?" she all but shouted that last part while trembling and closing her eyes in fear.

"Uh? Hungry?" Yuuka seemed lost in thoughts for a bit, then her usual smile came back up. "But of course, little one!"

Mistya almost couldn't believe her ears. Yuuka telling her "Oh, it's ok"? _It seems like she does have a good side to her… now, where should I eat?_

Then, she remembered she had left all her money in her cart. Now she had to go back there and pick it up! …If someone hadn't already stolen it.

That was the last straw. She started to cry, she started to cry hard. Life was so unfair sometimes. Many times.

Noticing her distress, Yuuka kneeled in front of her and asked: "What's wrong? Didn't you want to eat?"

"I… I left all my money in my cart… someone will probably have stolen it by now…" Mistya replied between the sighs.

"Uh? Money? I don't get these human customs…" Yuuka looked like she was reflecting on something, then said: "Well, let's see if your money is still there. Don't worry… I'll protect you."

Whatever the shock had done to Mistya's brain, it must have been something quite powerful, as she even felt safer as that promise left Yuuka's mouth. She wondered for a second if her was a case of Stockholm Syndrome (another thing she had learned in her brief period at the evening courses with prof Nakagawa. Not that it actually helped her any in the current situation, of course. When had Nakagawa's ramblings _ever_ helped her? Still, she remembered Yuuka's stare. That was by no means an earthly thing. And while her brain must have probably gone on vacation without even sending her a postcard, she still couldn't deny what she had saw the improvised Jet Li do to the two orcops.

So, she decided to simply play along and go get her money back. While she was leaving, she asked Yuuka: "So, when you said I didn't know who I actually was, what did you mean?"…

* * *

"Marisa! There you are! I've been looking for you all day!" Alice shouted as she spotted her fellow student in the empty corridor.

Marisa was currently sulking in a corner, leaning over a table, showing off her nice back… _Wait, what am I thinking?_ Alice mentally slapped herself. Now wasn't the time for thinking about Marisa's body. She had a very important speech to give her, after all…

It seemed like Marisa hadn't noticed her stepping in the corridor, but instead of calling her, or making her presence known, Alice took a few steps towards Marisa, admiring her: sun entered from a window, shining over Marisa's dirty gold hair, who sent back shiny reflections, dazzling Alice. Her form, bent over the table, reminded Alice of a wild cat, and emphasized her nimble but muscled legs…

Alice was too caught in admiring Marisa that she didn't notice that she had been noticed by the object of her admiration, who had currently turned to face her, sitting on the same table she was leaning on before: "Alice? Wassup?"

Marisa's words drew Alice from her trance, so she quickly reminded herself why she had come there.

"Marisa… we should talk"

Alice mentally smacked herself. That sounded so old-couple-ish…

Marisa made a sweet, sweet smile, tilted her head to the side and just plainly said: "I'm listenin', Alice…"

Even if she had rehearsed her speech many times, when Alice tried to speak, she didn't feel the words coming to her mouth. She was blocked, maybe by stress or fear. Of all the scenarios she had run through her mind, not even one included such an embarrassing meeting, or maybe it was just that, as her mother always told her, it's tough when you actually have an audience, even tougher when in the audience there is someone you care about. Trying to force herself to speak, she only managed to say: "Well I- I- I mean, you are- ah, damn, how can I say it? Wait, stop don't say anything, give me just a little…" Alice immediately reacted when she saw Marisa trying to speak, then she continued: "I… It's something that I've been wanting to tell you for quite some time, since… you got in touch with that… old friend of yours…"

Marisa flashed a grin at her: "Don't tell me you're jealous, _mon chou_?"

Alice felt her heart shrink at the criminal expression Marisa was pointing at her and at the completely gratuitous French she had used. The hell? She's not thinking that…?

"Hora hora… seems like I was right, ze... Li'l Alice is really jealous of her big sis Marisa…" Marisa had jumped off the table and started slowly, _seductively_ treading towards her…

"You… you got it wrong, it's not that kind of matter! I wanted to talk to you about-" Alice was suddenly cut off by Marisa shushing her with her index finger. "I know, Alice… I know what you want to tell me, _pasticcino_… but you don't have to worry… it's just a matter of a few months… I'm here just for you… just for you, _meine lieber_…"

Conflicting emotions were coursing through Alice's mind. Anger for the misunderstanding, fear of losing Marisa, sweet bliss for the loving words of the blonde… she felt a burning in the chest and her heart beating like crazy, but the rational part of her brain kept telling her to take the discussion back on tracks, that Marisa was being too accommodating and that this whole situation felt like something out of a cheap romance novel. But when would such an occasion ever present itself again?

Alice felt tears welling up in her eyes again, an tried to speak a last time, with a voice broken by sighs: "Marisa, I was just… worried that…"

"Shhhh, you don't need to be worried about anything. You know that… Marisa's always here for you…" Marisa hugged her and patted her back and spoke in a comforting, almost motherly tone. "I know why you're scared… but let it go… You know I won't go away… I won't die… Trust me a little, _amore_…"

Then, she lowered her head and, before Alice could understand what she was doing, Marisa nibbled lightly at the nape of her neck. Alice let out a faint cry and pulled Marisa closer. She wanted to feel her, again, stronger…

"…Bite me harder…"

Marisa only grinned, then complied.

Alice let out another cry, louder and huskier this time.

"You're enjoying yourself, li'l Alice?" said Marisa teasingly.

"Y-yes…" muttered Alice. "Can I just ask you one thing?", she then added.

"Go ahead, _dolcezza_…"

"Stop it with the gratuitous foreign languages… You sound like my mother… and it's awfully disturbing…" Alice let out with a giggle.

Marisa stuck out her tongue. Not that Alice could see her, as Marisa's face was still firmly planted on Alice's neck. "Aw, I dunno if I should feel flattered or offended…"

Alice felt a hearty laugh getting caught in her throat, and her features distorted in a devilish grin while she let out part of it. "You should feel insulted. Very… very… insulted…"

"_This_ insulted, li'l Alice?" Marisa bit again at the nape of her neck, stronger than even last time. Alice felt almost like melting in a puddle of bliss then and there. It hurt a bit, that was true, but…

Alice suddenly felt the pressure at the base of her neck disappearing, and Marisa had seemingly stood up, as she wasn't feeling her on her body any more. So, she heaved her eyes back up… and the sight that greeted her made her scream. Marisa had disappeared, and in her place was a hulking humanoid covered from head to toe in a military suit, and wearing a helmet with visor. And beneath the Plexiglas visor was…

Alice was jerked awake from the sound of musical instruments playing at _very_ high volume, and probably no farther than ten meters away from her: she could easily discern the oboes, the bass drum and the violoncello. And seconds after, a voice she _didn't_ really want to hear at the present moment pierced her ears.

Oh, the morning was starting just _beautifully_. First, she got a pseudo-erotic dream about her friend turned friend in need that only needed an aria to look like it came from one of mom's fantasies, _then_, the exact moment she left her slumber, she was greeted by the _Slavonic dance n.7_. Not that she considered it _bad_… ok, it was the one she liked the least, but still… at 6 a.m? REALLY?

Out of the kitchen came her mother's eardrum-piercing voice: "Alice, darling, wake up! Breakfast is ready!"

Too weak to actually shout loud enough to be heard over the thumping music, she just grunted, buried her head in the pillow and moaned: "Lemme fhleep juf' a bit mooarrr…"

Shinki didn't wait much to resume her calling: "Come ooon, Alice dear! Mommy's made breakfast just the way you like it! I even made the jam toasts!". Alice wondered whether her mother had actually heard her muffled muttering over the Slavonic dance…

When she first woke up, she was just feeling very drowsy from the interrupted sleep, but now her mother was starting to make her angry. _The hell? The exams are next week, why can't she just let me sleep? I'll just study later!_

She didn't voice out her thoughts at first, but when Shinki called her for the third time, she snapped. Anger had washed away all dizziness left from her system just so she could finally shut up her annoying mother.

"MOM!", she yelled, and waited until she got a response to continue. "Yes, sweetie?"

"SHUT! UP! I WANT TO SLEEP TODAY SEEING HOW I HAD TO OVERWORK MYSELF FOR THE WHOLE WEEK BETWEEN STUDYING FOR THE DAMN EXAMS AND WORKING AT NAKAJIMA'S ANTIQUE. NOW! I! DESERVE! SOME! REST! SO PUT AWAY YOUR STUPID TOASTS WITH JAM, MUTE DVORAK AND LET! ME! SLEEEEEEP!"

After she finished the rant, Alice felt suddenly very drained and tired, as if she didn't care anymore. She didn't even notice that Shinki had replied with a teary "Ok, dearie" or that she had just turned off the music – or, at least, lowered the volume a lot: She just fell back on her bed, and in an uneasy sleep for the rest of the morning.

* * *

_Wheeeew, I can't believe it really took me more than _TWO FRIGGIN' MONTHS _to write this. I mean, it's not more than 4500 words! What's wrong with me? I really need to be whipped into shape, hehe. Jokes aside, there's one thing I'd want to comment on: Yuuka. I started the story with the idea of making her abrasive and contemptuous, then turned her into a strange sort of animist/synesthete who saw the world in her own bizarre way, and now she's suddenly uncomfortably similar to what she was in IM, though much less villainous (for now, hehe… nah, just joking. Or not, who knows?). The fact is that out of all the characters, she's the one I understand less. She's such a free spirit that even I have troubles understanding what's going through her head. Another issue I wanted to address was repetitiveness. Now, I don't think my story is already getting repetitive (I'd better take it off the site and forget about it, if that was the case), but I think the initial situations may actually be. Thing is, I still have problems gauging how much time I should let every scene cover, or how many things I should have happening in each scene. As usual, I'd be overjoyed at any critique that could help me improve, as this baby deserves to be seen through to its end, but I don't want to leave behind a boring story. For this, the opinion of my (twenty-five? Ok, that reference was totally out of place. Slap me) readers is very, very important._

_That said, I think I might be starting to want Shinki as my adoptive mother. I think I might have a bad case of Oedipus complex. Which is noooo good._

_Just joking, of course._

_Well, see you in the next life. Or in the next chapter, whichever one comes first, hehe._


End file.
